Keikaku Doori Dewa Nai
Mal-3
Fun Tyrant
DAENERYS
… zhdane … zhdane … zhdane … the word swam through Dany's head like the sound of an unrung bell. … maker … builder … hypocrite … Tall, unearthly figures knelt beneath a white tree with red leaves, their fingers intertwined with the roots. … knowledge of life, builders of wonders … A city of glass and iron burned in the glare of harsh white light. Viserys screamed as the molten gold burned its way down his face. … knowledge of death, bringers of doom … The ruins of a great temple in a blasted gray land stood beneath a burning sky. A man and woman in furs stood atop a snowy hill, grasping bronze-tipped spears uneasily. … fires unlit, treasons unknown, the changer of ways comes … She could hear a woman's voice faintly, as if from a great distance as the word zhdane tolled once more in her head.
Then the visions froze, quivered and vanished like morning dew. The indigo murk faded and Dany gasped as though she had just emerged from beneath water. Blinking away the fog she found herself in a bare stone hall filled with dust and rotting fineries and the withered blue bodies of the Undying Ones seated around a table. The corrupt and rotten heart still floated above the table, beating quickly and fitfully.
To Dany's left was the maegi Hasegawa, one hand out in a gesture of peace, the other fiddling with something sheathed at her hip. One of her familiars shone with orange light that filled the room, forcing the murky sorceries of the Undying back into the corners.
"Now that's enough of that," the maegi said entirely too calmly.
… zhdane … the Undying moaned as one. … thief of power … return to us what is ours …
"In a minute, maybe. But first let's talk about this like civilized beings, okay? No more tricks, no more games. We come to an agreement and we part amicably."
… civilized … civilized … the Undying rasped mockingly. … to claim civilization with a knife to the throat …
"You already had your knife at my neck," Hasegawa retorted. "I'm just leveling the playing field. Now can we talk business, or are we just going to sneer at each other?"
The Undying seemed to find that amusing. A rattling, jacking noise came from the withered warlocks. … such passion … devotion … so like us in our youth … ask your questions …
"You know why I'm here." The maegi's voice was flat and hard.
… the cold ones … the hungry ones … the usurpers of your throne at the end of the world … you seek to end their reign forever …
"What can you tell me about them?"
… so demanding, zhdane … the warlocks chided as one.
A tiny smile came to Hasegawa's lips. "Well, I suppose if you aren't the paragons of knowledge everybody claims you are I could always just leave you be," she said idly. The Undying stilled for a moment.
… we know … know … know … know much of your failure … your kin failed to understand … the thieves of fire failed to understand … but we know … know … know … The blue heart pulsed quicker, a strange heat coming into the whispery chorus. … the city was young … magic still mighty … we searched … we sought … we found the path …
An ugly light came into the maegi's eye. "The path?" she asked.
… there are many little ways through the shroud of night … the Undying boasted. … many ways … to small for the cold ones … too small for the fire … but we could see … we could hear … and we learned …
"Fuck me running," Hasegawa whispered, rocking backwards. "What did you do?"
… we learned, zhdane … learned … there are so many … so many … in the shroud … we learned of your failures … of the crimes of the fire thieves … the secrets of eternity …
"You spoke to the Unbidden," the maegi said with horror.
… the cold ones are rage and hunger … The Undying seemed to sniff. … they are of little account … there are others whom we pried secrets from … the worm that waits … the rage of the end … little gods and great ones … they taught us many things … how to bind and loose … how to live forever … ever … ever …
"Uh huh," Hasegawa said in a flat voice. "Clearly that's working out well for you."
… foolish child, you know nothing … nothing … nothing … these shells are nothing … our true selves live in the shroud … the shroud protects … the shroud nourishes … the shroud is all …
The maegi leaned in close, examining the warlocks' blue features. "And yet you're still here," she mused. "I wonder if life on the other side's all that cracked up to be?"
… you presume …
"Yeah, I do that a lot. But we're getting off track. So, you being mighty warlocks learned to listen to the beasties in the Shroud and, I'm guessing, got a lot of your magic from them. You do know what happens if they manage to get here all the way, right?"
There was a soft rustling noise as the great warlocks of Qarth displayed their indifference. … we care not … why should we … our lives are secure … and why should you care, zhdane … your race comes and goes like gods … what worth are a few brief mortals compared to the likes of us …
"Everything is worth fighting for," the maegi whispered.
The warlock nearest them, an ancient woman dressed in rotten pale silk, turned to face them. Her mouth twisted in a grotesque parody of a smile … if you believe so … we will make an exchange … we will teach you the secrets of the shroud, zhdane … the things we wrested from the voices in the dark … that you need to destroy your enemies … if you give us the girl …
"What?"
… the girl … the girl … the last of our enemy … let us sup from her … we will aid you as you wish … the warlocks of Qarth will be your sword … give us the girl …
Dany's breath caught. She dared risk a glance at the maegi, only to see the woman's hand snap up grasping something like a small crossbow and pointed right at the rotten, pulsing heart above the table. "Yeah, how about no," Hasegawa said with venom. "Even if I trusted you further than I could throw this building, I'm not in the habit of sacrificing innocents for the greater good."
… innocent … innocent … the girl is no innocent … The darkness struggled against the maegi's orange light. … slaver … conqueror … burner of cities … the dragon plants no trees … we have seen her story already writ …
Hasegawa's aim never wavered, her glare unchanging. "The future isn't written," she said. "I'll bet you had no idea I was coming until I came, did you? Whatever you think you saw doesn't matter; change is coming."
… you are a child with trinkets … the Undying's hiss filled the room, louder than it had ever been. … we allowed you to pretend to have advantage … and we are finished with pretense …
*/ "Palabra mi Amor" Shaka Ponk The Geeks and the Jerkin' Socks (2011) /*
The orange light coming from the maegi's familiar suddenly guttered and died, the indigo gloom flooding back into the room as the metal creature dropped to the ground with a pitiful warble. Hasegawa snarled an oath and fired her weapon, thunderbolts lancing into the dark heart and ripping away chunks of rotten flesh. The Undying laughed their horrible rasping laugh as the gloom filled the chamber yet again. Fragments of visions tore at Dany's mind; images of lions, stags, wolves, birds, dragons and a thousand other things buffeted around her. Cold, bony fingers grasped and tore at her garments. Over all of it she could hear the maegi roaring curses.
Then indigo turned to orange once more, and the Undying's laughter turned to screams. Heat washed over her as Drogon spread his wings and shrieked fire into the faces of the warlocks. The rotten heart shriveled and smoked under the assault, and the Undying howled as they burned. They staggered and writhed and spun and raised blazing hands on high, their fingers bright as torches.
Strong, warm living hands grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. "Time to go," the maegi said. "Victory: execute exit strat two!" Dany wanted to know what the nonsense words meant but the rotten finery was burning merrily and the room nearly completely ablaze by the time they reached the door.
"Drogon!" Dany called, and he obediently flew to her through the fire. Outside the chamber a long dim passageway stretched before them, lit by the glare of the fire behind them. The maegi grabbed Dany's wrist and they ran, the maegi using her thunder weapon to reduce doors and walls to splinters and rubble if they proved too much trouble. The floor seemed to move slowly under her feet, writhing as if to trip her.
… do you think you've power here … The air seemed to shake with the harsh whisper … you will never reach the way out … Dwarfs with pointed faces and pink hands leaped out at them from hidden alcoves. Drogon snarled and burned them, and the maegi's surviving familiar used bolts of blue light to send them reeling … you belong to the House of the Undying …
In the far distance Dany could see a small blot of light that looked like an open door. She turned to run towards it but the maegi held her back.
"I can see the way out!" she protested.
"You're seeing what they want you to see," Hasegawa replied with a shake of her head. "We can't trust it."
The sound of distant thunder came to Dany's ears. A storm? The sound grew louder and louder, causing the very stones of the warlock's palace to shake. The looming darkness drew back into the twisty walls in apprehension.
"Victory NOW!" The maegi grabbed Dany and Drogon, throwing them to the floor and throwing herself atop them as the roll of thunder grew to a mighty roar. Light and noise exploded above them: a sound louder and more violent than any dragon, the crashing of cracked and ruined stone, a horrible screeching from the Undying Ones and their servants, Drogon's panicked cries and her own screams as the world came undone around them.
When the noise finally abated Dany could feel the warmth of the bright sun on her back. Gingerly she stood up, Drogon climbing back on her shoulder and flapping his wings. The whole front of the Palace of Dust had been reduced to smouldering wreckage, and thin tendrils of smoke wafted through cracks in the ancient walls behind her. Above them was the maegi's great white sky-ship, drifting just above the tallest branches of the warlocks' black trees and rumbling a quiet song without melody.
The maegi had rolled to her knees and brushed gray dust from her coat. "When in doubt, never be afraid to make your own exit," she said with a cheeky grin to Dany. "Basic rules for Rangers."
Dany nodded, suddenly bone-weary after the day's events.
"Despoilers!" Pyat Pree shrieked at them, voice high and unnatural. "You've ruined everything!" Howling in some unknown tongue, he drew a knife and danced towards the maegi. Hasegawa's familiars let fly bolts of blue light that knocked him to the ground. Ser Jorah Mormont came to her as she left the wreckage and put his arm around her shoulder.
SARELLA
She was on the ramp before the end had even touched the earth. She darted past the palanquins, past the two Dothraki and the man with the jeweled nose who were staring stupidly at Carefree Victory and strode towards what was left of the House of the Undying, only allowing her heart to beat again when she saw the two disheveled figures stumbling from the smoking ruin.
The captain looked like hammered shit, covered in dust and bruises. Sarella said as much, fiddling with the medicine kit she'd taken from the ship's surgery. "You should see the other guys," Jade jested halfheartedly.
Sarella's brows went up. "I presume they didn't have the roof fall on them," she noted, poking at a tender spot and observing Jade's responding wince.
"No, but they probably got set on fire, so it all balances out." Jade coughed. "You can—ow—stop that now, by the way."
"I don't know if I should. You may need more reminders of your mortality."
"No, Al, seriously—ow—my sense of mortality is—ow!—pretty damn active."
Sarella sighed. "Well, despite your best efforts you seem well enough," she said, relenting. "As your maester I recommend tea, clean air and rest for a day and a night before engaging in another running battle with dread sorcerers." A small, worried smile tugged at her lips. "And next time you bring us with you so we may guard your back better!"
Jade smiled sheepishly and put her hand on Sarella's shoulder. "You're right," she said. "I'm sorry I scared you like that," and Sarella felt a weight lift from her back. "Next time it's a team effort. We'll even let Greyjoy break some shit, keep her sweet." She whistled, and her remaining familiars swung into position around her. "I'm going to run some scans on what's left, see maybe if I can find some salvage," she said. "Go check out Targaryen. I think she might've taken it worse than I did."
She nodded and turned to the dragon queen, who was a surprisingly small figure in tattered white samnite half held upright by a tall Westerosi knight. "Your Grace?" she ventured. "I am Alleras; my lady has asked that I ensure that you are well after your ordeal."
"Eh?" Targaryen said, distracted, then her violet eyes focused on Sarella's robes. "You're a maester!" she exclaimed.
Sarella nodded gravely. "I am an initiate of the Citadel, Your Grace, though my chain is not yet complete."
The knight supporting the queen gave her a suspicious look. "And what is a man of Oldtown doing traveling with a witch?" he asked in the rough tones of the North.
"Oh, we'll travel with just about anyone if it means learning something new," Sarella replied breezily. "I may have set my formal education back some by taking this mission, but I reckon I'll be able to forge a dozen entirely new links and my own mask by the time I'm done. Your Grace, if I may?" She extended a hand, examining the dragon queen's body. The poor girl was covered in scratches from head to toe. Most were light abrasions, uncomfortable red lines that would fade by morning. A few, particularly on the lightly-tanned skin of her arms and her pale breast, were more serious, welling up blood in a way that looked more like knife wounds than anything left by fingers. "Hm. These will have to be taken care of. I believe I have just the thing…" she rummaged through the medicines, selecting a sterilizing spray. "This will be quite unpleasant, Your Grace, but it will clean out the worst of these cuts."
To her credit Targaryen didn't flinch or cry out when the spray touched her wounds. Sarella followed the spray with a selection of small linen bandages with sticky edges, to keep dirt for further working its way back in. "You didn't exactly answer Ser Jorah's question," Targaryen said. "How did you come to travel with Captain Hasegawa?"
"I was of assistance to her when she came to Oldtown seeking knowledge of history." Sarella shrugged. "The archmaesters came to an arrangement with my lady; in exchange for my continued presence my lady gains access to certain things only those who take up the chain would receive."
The northern knight's eyes narrowed. "A spy in her ranks."
"Nothing so crude, ser. We are all seekers of knowledge, and knowledge seeks freedom when it can find it. The archmaesters receive reports when I am in a position to send them on; I tell them nothing that my lady would be loath to let them know, and what I give is oft beyond their reckoning. They believe I am still loyal, and perhaps that is true," she lied. "It works out nicely for all involved."
The dragon queen nodded. "Thank you, Alleras," she said. "Is there anything else?"
"A night and a day of rest before you go running off to conquer Westeros," Sarella replied promptly. "The bandages may be removed after the fourth day. There may be scars but they will be faint at worst."
The dragon queen nodded. "Thank you," she repeated. "It is… good to know that my people still hold to the old traditions, regardless of the Usurper." Sarella nodded absently, packing up the medicine kit. That was a phrase fraught with difficulty that she had no interest in getting into at that moment. Or ever, if she could help it.
"Alleras…" the Targaryen heir hesitated. "How may I sway your lady to my cause? I feel like our paths may be bound together, but I know not how to make her listen."
Sarella froze. Marshaling all the powers of the Sphinx she made as careful a reply as she could. "I know she thinks highly of Your Grace, but the situation in Westeros is… fraught. It is entirely possible that the whole realm will be at war in truth the next time we set foot there, and my lady has made arrangements that could cause things to fall further into chaos should she break them." She shook her head. "Things will have to change dramatically for her to even think of shifting her alliance."
And the sky lit up with a million different colors. Sarella looked up and saw billowing streams of yellow, purple, green and orange light streaming through the afternoon sky from the place where the red comet had been trailing the sun. The light danced through the blue sky, creating strange dappled shadows in between the blue-leaved trees.
"Something like that, perhaps," she went on, trying to sound as casual as possible.
